Page 18 of Every Duke Has His Thorn
“Although I don’t believe in the treasure, the steward did. Now that we know what he was up to, I may find more damage. None of the laborers are in the nursery due to the work on the roof.”
He waved a hand. “It can do no harm to have another look.”
Marina’s thoughts exactly. She climbed the central staircase to the second floor. The nursery had two large windows which let in an abundance of light. She wondered when the duke would marry and have children. How old was he? It was none of her business, but she would wager Anne would know.
She found no damage to the walls of the room. The walls were painted, displaying neither trim nor wallpaper. There was no fireplace in the chamber, but there was one in the adjoining nurse’s room. If a treasure lay behind a wall in the nursery, there were no indications of it.
Marina was startled by the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside the room. She turned on her heel to see the duke enter the nursery. “Your Grace!”
“Miss Davies.”
She curtsied. “In light of the poem we discovered, I wanted to make sure we didn’t miss any further damage Mr. Sparks may have inflicted on the house.”
Instinctively, she clutched her notebook against her chest. Marina was glad she was only a few inches shy of six feet. She didn’t have to look too far up to meet the duke’s gaze.
His dark hair was ruffled in the current style to affect a windblown look, and he was dressed immaculately in gray trousers and a black coat, his shirt and cravat blindingly white.
“I thought perhaps you might be looking for treasure?” he asked lightly.
“Perhaps.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t see anywhere one could hide something in here without making a hole in a wall.”
She nodded. “There isn’t any paneling in the room. I can see no damage to the fireplace in the nurse’s room or to the walls in either room.”
The duke walked past her and into the small chamber next door. The scent of his cologne drifted to her. Her eyes closed a moment at the musky, warm scent.
When he returned a moment later, he was shaking his head. “I’m surprised Mr. Sparks didn’t make any holes in the walls.”
“Yes, he wasn’t particularly careful in the rooms on the ground floor.”
“My housekeeper said she wasn’t sure what he was up to. He always had a plausible excuse for being in the rooms.” His gaze went to the ceiling above them where a dragging noise could be heard.
Realizing how close he was to her, she took a step back, wishing she had a bonnet on to shield her face. Who knew what her expression revealed.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t be in this room while the roof is being worked on.” The duke turned his attention from the ceiling to her face. His eyes went to her hair. She lifted a hand to smooth a stray lock, and realized her hand was trembling. She quickly clasped it around the notebook at her chest.
What was wrong with her? She’d been around many powerful men and surely wasn’t scared of the duke. Marina wouldn't think about the real reason she might be flustered by his nearness.
* * * * *
Preston stepped out into the corridor, and Miss Davies followed him.
He’d been surprised to see the confident young woman nonplussed when he’d been standing close to her. She was very self-effacing for someone so young. Without a bonnet, he could see her hairstyle, while still severe, was losing its battle with several hairpins. The curls around her cheeks merely drew the eye to her chin line and the long, lovely throat beneath.
“You forgot to put on your glasses,” he said with a raised brow.
“You know I don’t need them,” she replied with a quick smile.
Her sweet smile made him catch his breath. “I don’t believe there is a treasure in the house.”
“It seems a fantastical idea.”
He nodded. “Perhaps it did exist once but has since been found.”
“The more I think on it, I don’t believe the poem was referring to the nursery. That would be too obvious.” She chewed her lip, a habit he found fascinating.
“You would leave a more intricate clue?” he asked, his lips curving into a smile.
